BY THE TIME Theo’s rental car reached the outskirts of Logan’s hometown in the Highlands, he only wanted three things: a stiff drink, a hot meal, and a soft bed. In that order. If things had gone as planned, he’d have watched Logan give his bride-to-be the surprise of her life, enjoying an evening out with his best mate. He’d have been on that sleeper car with everyone else. Tossed back a few pints or maybe a shot or two in the lounge car, then slept in one of the train’s new luxury cabins.
Instead, he’d kept his promise to his mother and accompanied Camille to another achingly dull event, where he spent the evening saying all the right things to all the right people, the whole time feeling like it was all wrong. Then he’d taken an early morning flight into Inverness and rented a car to make the drive to Lochalsh.
Finally, Theo pulled up to his friend’s childhood home. He switched off the key and sat for a minute, eyes closed, head slumped against the steering wheel. He was bloody exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Something hard banged loudly on the bonnet of the car. He jerked upright. “What the—”
Logan was leaning across the front windshield, staring in at him. “Theo! You made it, lad.”
“Barely,” Theo groaned, rubbing a hand across his face. “I feel like hell.”
“You look it.” Logan reached through the open window and clapped Theo on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Mam saved you some breakfast.”
Thoughts of Logan’s mother’s cooking were just enough motivation to convince his tired body to get moving again. He slid out of the car and followed his friend up the steps and into the house.
“Theo, laddie!” Logan’s mother, Fiona, wrapped him in a fierce hug, the faded red braid of her hair tickling his chin.
Both Logan and his sister, Janet, inherited their ginger locks from their mother. In her mid-fifties, plump and pretty, Logan’s mam was nothing like his own mum. Where Theodora Wharton was sharp, Fiona Reid was soft. Where his mother was cold and calculating, Logan’s mother was warm and tender. Theo knew his mother loved him, in her way. Deep down, though, he’d always longed for the sweet affection of a mother who cuddled and coddled. His mother was neither coddler nor cuddler.
A stab of guilt lanced him for the uncharitable thought as Theo returned the hug. “It’s good to see you.” He gave Fiona a peck on the cheek. “You look lovely as always.”
“Och, off with ye now,” Fiona cooed, running a hand over her hair. While still a vibrant shade of red, streaks of white threaded through the braid.
Theo wondered what Bonnie’s hair might look like as she aged. To be the man to grow old by her side, years filled with memories like the ones they’d shared at the cottage … An ache, painful in its intensity, lanced his heart.
“What’s troubling you?” Fiona asked.
“Sorry?” Theo shook himself.
“Woolgathering?” She clucked her tongue. “Ye must be tired after yer long drive. And famished. Let’s get something in your stomach, aye? Then you can have the afternoon to rest before the festivities tonight.” She patted his unshaven cheek. “Och, you’re a wee furry beastie!”
“Leave the poor man alone, Mam,” Logan said, handing Theo a finger of whiskey. “Here, to settle your nerves … and mine.”
Theo accepted the glass gratefully and tossed it back. Swallowing, he savored the smoky sting as the alcohol singed a path to his belly, burning away some of the lingering frustration of the last few days … hell, the last few weeks. The edge off his mood, Theo joined his friend at the wooden bench lining the long farmhouse table. “You’re just jealous I can grow a better beard than you.”
“Och, aye?” Logan raised a brow as he sipped his whiskey. “Well, I can throw a harder punch than you,” he teased; his brogue was always stronger when he came back home.
After meeting their first year at university, Theo and Logan had been best mates. Often trading stays at each other’s homes while on holiday. He’d kept it to himself, but Theo had always preferred spending time in Lochalsh than at the Abbey. Like the Lakeland Cottage, he felt more at home here than in his own house, more relaxed.
“Here you are, eat up.” Fiona set a plate in front of him, piled high with smoked kippers and fried potatoes.
“Could you fry me up some tatties too, Mam?” Logan asked as Theo dug into his meal.
“Ye already had two plates this morn with the lassies,” Fiona chided, even as she began dropping slices of potato into the frying pan.
Yep, coddled. “Where are the girls now?” Theo asked.
“After breakfast I drove them back over to the flats we’ve rented across from the castle.” Logan pulled the plate his mother set on the table closer. “Thanks, Mam.” He wolfed down a few forkfuls before adding, “They’re spending the day getting ready. I’ve no notion why, tonight’s just a practice run, aye?” He shrugged and downed a few more bites.
Theo cleaned his plate, happily accepting a second helping. Hunger eased, he took his time, chewing thoughtfully. “Rehearsal dinner tonight, wedding on Saturday, and then home on Sunday?” he asked.
“That’s the plan.” Logan nodded. “We’ve put off the honeymoon for now. Cassie needs to get back for work, and my new season starts filming soon too.”
“This will be your third?”
“I know, I can hardly reckon it myself.” Logan shook his head. “I signed a contract for another two years. Good thing I’m getting hitched to an American, aye?”
“You’ve decided to live in the States, then?” Theo wasn’t surprised, but he’d miss his friend. They didn’t get together as often as either of them liked as it was, and it would be even less often if the Scot continued living halfway across the world.
“For now,” Logan admitted. “But we’re both open to where life takes us.” He smiled. “And you?” he asked, mouth curling down in concern. “Are ye all right?”
“I’ll be fine,” Theo said, finishing the last of his food. “I just need some sleep.”
“If you say so.” Logan watched him carefully, and Theo knew he wasn’t fooled.
He also knew Lo wouldn’t pry. Which he was grateful for. Theo refused to burden his friend with his problems, especially not during one of the most important moments of his best mate’s life.
“The spare room’s all yours.” Logan squeezed Theo’s shoulder. “Go have a rest. I’ll wake you in time to get ready.” He paused, squeeze turning into a playful punch. “And I’ll be sure to give you extra time to take care of the mess growing on your face.”
Bonnie peeked around the curtain again, checking to see if they were ready to begin. At the front of the long hall, Logan’s sister held up her hand, waving three fingers. Bonnie nodded and dropped the curtain back into place.
“Janet says three more minutes,” she announced. “Everybody ready back here?” Bonnie looked over the group. Sadie, Ana, and Delaney were lined up by height, paired with two of Logan and Theo’s rugby teammates from their university days, and one of Logan’s former crewmembers from his internet show, Shenanigans. Beyond them, Theo stood waiting with Cassie and her parents. Bonnie swallowed. As best man, he’d be escorting her down the aisle.
“We’re ready,” Cassie called, voice a little shaky.
“It’s only a rehearsal, honey,” Cassie’s mom was saying, rubbing her back, “you got this.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Cassie pushed the veil away from her face to look at her mother. She hadn’t donned her wedding dress for the rehearsal but had decided to wear the veil so she could practice the whole kiss-the-bride thing. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. We applied for a marriage license in Cook County months ago.”
“What?” Every female in hearing distance demanded at once.
“Yeah.” Cassie shrugged. “At the courthouse downtown. To cover our bases, in case something went wrong overseas.”
Before anyone could respond further to this revelation, the procession music started.
“Zip it and line up, people,” Delaney ordered, going into full preschool teacher mode. “It’s showtime.”
The curtain parted, and the couples began to file out one by one. Bonnie took her place next to Theo. It was surreal, walking down the aisle with him, the soft strains of Pachelbel’s Canon marking the rhythm of their stride.
Actually, it felt too real. How often had she imagined herself walking down the aisle? She’d spent years picturing the music, the dress, the moment.
But this wasn’t her moment, she reminded herself, it was Cassie’s.
Bonnie and Theo reached the front of the aisle. Right before they split apart, for the briefest of seconds, Theo squeezed her hand, hard. Inside her chest, her heart contracted, as if that too, had been clenched inside his fist. Emotions all over the place, afraid to look directly at him, she nodded, keeping her gaze facing front. He released her, and they separated, moving to their places on opposite sides of the bridal platform.
Then Cassie was coming down the aisle, her mom and dad at her side. Even though this was only a rehearsal, even though this was just a practice run, Bonnie’s heart swelled with happiness for her friend. She sneaked a peek at the groom, waiting at the front of the aisle. The look on Logan’s face as he watched his bride approach was breathtaking in its raw intensity.
Tears stung at the corners of Bonnie’s eyes, burned in the back of her throat. Not tears of sadness, but of joy. Joy for her friend, her best friend in the world, the sister of her heart.
Seeing how Cassie and Logan looked at each other now, Bonnie realized how petty she’d been to ever doubt their love could be as strong as hers had been. She’d arrogantly thought because Cassie and Logan had known each other for such a brief time, what they felt for each other couldn’t compare to what she and Gabe had.
Ironically, she’d been right. It didn’t compare. Except her relationship was the one to come up short. It wasn’t how long you loved someone that mattered, but how well. Stepping forward to take the practice bouquet from Cassie’s hand, Bonnie whispered in her friend’s ear, “I love you, my bosom buddy, and I’m so very happy for you.”
She couldn’t see her face clearly through the filmy veil, but the smile Cassie gave Bonnie was so bright, it shined straight through to her soul. Heart lighter than it had been in months, Bonnie stepped back and let her friend have her moment.
After the rehearsal, everyone gathered in the common room for a celebratory dinner. It was a relaxed affair, a small group made up of the bridal party, Cassie’s parents, Logan’s mom and his mom’s date, a man Logan introduced as Mr. Kinney, and his sister, Janet, and Janet’s girlfriend, Clara, who it turns out was a drummer for an all-girl band called the Mermaids.
“You’re going to play at the reception tomorrow?” Bonnie asked.
Clara nodded. “I promised Janet we’d even play some classical shit.”
“That’s nice of you.” Bonnie sipped from one of the champagne glasses she was two-fisting. She’d been avoiding Theo all evening, not wanting to deal with the messy emotions tangling inside her every time she caught his eye. She wanted to focus on the now, on the joy she felt for her friend, which was finally free of any taint of jealousy. “What kind of music do you usually play?”
“Och, all sorts.” Clara waved a hand. “Whatever tickles our fancy.”
“Ever play the Spice Girls?”
“Fuck, no.” Her face scrunched in amused revulsion. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope.” Bonnie took another sip of champagne, completely unashamed. “I love their music.”
“Well, I suppose we could play one song,” the drummer mused, “if you requested it.” She winked.
“Leave off, you flirt.” Logan’s sister, Janet, nudged Clara. “Besides, you’re spoken for.”
Clara laughed and gave Janet a quick kiss before turning back to Bonnie. “How about you? Are you spoken for?”
“Nope,” Bonnie said again. “Actually, I was engaged,” she admitted, surprising herself, “but I ended it a few months ago when I found out he’d been cheating on me.”
“What a wanker!” Clara seethed.
“He was,” Bonnie agreed, lifting her second glass of champagne in acknowledgment. Downing the rest of the glass, she realized she didn’t feel any twinges of guilt or shame. Before, even though she told herself it wasn’t her fault, that she had nothing to feel bad about, Gabe’s infidelity had made her feel bad about herself. But now, just like the jealousy she’d harbored for Cassie and Logan, those feelings were gone.
Her neck prickled, and she glanced over her shoulder. From across the room, Theo was watching her. Setting down her empty glasses, Bonnie got to her feet, a little wobbly. “If you’ll excuse me, I need some air.”
“Careful out there,” Janet warned. “I think a storm is brewing.”
“I will be, thanks.” With a wave, Bonnie headed out of the common room. Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, she made her way down the front steps. She didn’t know if Theo followed her. Part of her was afraid he would, part of her was afraid he wouldn’t.
They hadn’t spoken to each other since that painfully awkward exchange over tea at his house. If that even counted, since he hadn’t said a word to her directly. She should have seen it coming. There’d certainly been enough clues. But she’d chosen to ignore the warning signs. She was good at that. Look what happened with Gabe.
Bonnie walked for several minutes, hoping the cool night air and scent of grass and heather would calm her nerves. But she didn’t feel calm. If anything, coming outside had heightened the restless energy building inside her.
Across the way, moonlight caressed the walls and parapets of the castle. As she watched, a flock of thick gray clouds swept across the surface of the moon, blanketing the landscape in inky shadows. The wind picked up, tossing Bonnie’s curls into a swirling mass whipping across her face. She shivered, Janet’s warning about the storm ringing in her ears. Glancing back, Bonnie debated returning to the party but stopped when she saw a tall figure standing on the steps.
Light ripped the night sky apart, throwing the lines of the man’s body into stark relief. Even from this distance, she knew it was Theo. And she knew he was watching her. A roll of thunder echoed across the countryside, the ground trembling beneath her.
On impulse, she turned and ran, hurrying up the hill. She hadn’t gotten very far before she stumbled, heels of her shoes catching in the dirt and rocks. If she was thinking rationally, she would stand up, brush herself off, and go back. But she wasn’t, so she got to her feet, kicked off her shoes, and kept running. More lightning flashed, and the rain began to fall, mocking her decision.
Thighs burning, Bonnie tore up the hill, raindrops pelting her cheeks and soaking through the thin fabric of her cocktail dress. Even though she was expecting it, the next clap of thunder startled her, and she tripped, her ankle twisting on the wet grass. Searing pain ripped through her as she fell, her hip slamming into the ground with bruising force.
For a moment, she didn’t move as wave after wave of agony radiated from her ankle up her leg. She rolled onto her back and breathed slowly through her nose, choking on raindrops and fighting the bile rising in her throat. She was not going to puke. Through the matted tangle of hair plastered across her face, Bonnie turned and stared back the way she’d come.
But no one was there. The hillside was empty. He hadn’t followed her. He must have decided she wasn’t worth chasing. Even Willoughby had come to help Marianne.
Feeling a million different kinds of stupid, Bonnie knew she had to get out of the storm. Wiping her eyes, she rolled again, this time onto her stomach. She pressed her palms into the grass, fingers digging into the dirt and roots as she drew her knees up, favoring her injured leg, and moved to a semi-upright position. Near the top of the hill, tucked in a copse of bushes, stood a wooden shed. It would have to do. She half crawled, half shimmied up the rest of the hill. Her dress was completely ruined, and she would probably be hobbling down the aisle at her friend’s wedding tomorrow.
Almost at the top, Bonnie stopped to catch her breath. On her hands and knees in the mud, she looked up and gauged how much farther she had to go to reach the shed. It was then she saw him, striding up the hill, wide shoulders slicing through the misting rain. In moments, he’d reached her and stood, staring down at her, blue eyes piercing the darkness.
She blinked up at him.
“You bloody little fool,” Theo said in a hoarse whisper. He bent over her, leaning down until his face was mere inches from her own. Water sluiced off his nose and lashes and the bold slash of his cheekbones. And then his mouth was on hers, punishing in its intensity. The kiss of an avenging angel, stealing her breath, claiming her soul.
Before Bonnie’s heart remembered to beat, before she could gather her wits and say something—anything—he lifted her, one arm around her shoulders, the other under her knees. Jaw clenched, he turned, stomping through the wind and rain. Theo marched toward the shed and kicked the door open, bracing her against his hip. “Can you walk?”
“I … I don’t know.” He set her down, and she took a tentative step. She winced but was able to support her weight. Taking another step, she nodded. “I’m okay.”
“Well, I’m bloody not okay,” he roared, slamming the shed door shut.
She whirled around, pivoting on her good ankle.
He stalked toward her. “What were you thinking? Tearing off like that in the middle of a bloody lightning storm?”
As if making his point, another bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating the interior of their shelter like the pop of a camera flash. Seconds later, an ear-splitting crack of thunder shook the thin walls. Bonnie wrapped her arms around herself, trembling.
With a curse, Theo turned away from her and began to ransack the small space, a shadow moving against the darker shadows. Bonnie heard the scritch of a match and a moment later, the wick of a kerosene lamp glowed to life. He hung the lamp on a hook screwed into the rafters and turned his attention back to her.
“Why did you run when you saw me?” he demanded, hair wild, eyes blazing in the flickering light. His shirt was soaked and plastered to his skin, chest heaving. A vein pulsed in his neck. “Answer me!”
His question was gasoline poured on the coals of her own pent-up anger, his demand the match. In a burst of white-hot rage, she exploded. “Why do you think?” she yelled, fury making her bold. “Because I was running away from you!” She took a step toward him and almost collapsed.
He lurched forward, grabbing onto her waist, stopping her fall.
“I was running away from my feelings for you.” The admission tumbled out as she clung to him, arms sliding over his wet shirt. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.
He ducked his chin. “What am I going to do with you?” he growled, the words barely audible over the rain pounding against the slate roof.
From some reckless place deep inside, Bonnie answered him. “Kiss me.”
Clasping her hands behind his neck, she pulled his mouth down to hers. His skin was cold from the rain, but his lips were warm as she slid her tongue inside, seeking his heat. He groaned, and the sound rumbled between them like the thunder rolling overhead. Dropping her hands from his neck, she tried to remove his shirt, but the buttons were slick and kept sliding through her fingers. She gritted her teeth in frustration.
“Here,” he said, grabbing the back of his shirt and lifting it over his head, buttons popping, little pings sounding as they sprinkled across the wood floor like hail. “Better?”
“Much.” She placed her hands on his chest, eager for the feel of his bare skin beneath her palms. In the dim glow of the lamp, she watched as her hands, still muddy from her crawl up the hill, left streaks of dirt across his body. She ran her fingers over his torso, fascinated by the ropes of muscle rippling along his abdomen in the wake of her touch. She stroked her palms up and down his chest, marking him. Mine, those handprints said, a feral pleasure tearing through her at the sight.
She claimed his mouth again, marking that as hers too. His hands reached around her, tugging on the zipper of her dress, peeling the wet fabric away from her body. It pooled at her feet in a soggy heap. He stepped back, drinking her in. As he stared, she popped the clasp on her bra and slipped it off. Her nipples tightened instantly in the cool air, and she arched her back, offering herself to his hungry gaze.
Holding her steady with one hand, Theo reached out with the other, his forefinger slowly tracing a path over her collarbones, down between her breasts and around her belly button. She held her breath, wondering where his finger would move next. But instead of continuing down, he slid his hand back up, fingers following the curve of her breasts, up and around.
She exhaled, then quickly inhaled again, chest rising, and he tracked the movement, his own chest rising and falling rapidly with each shallow breath. Then he leaned into her, and she cried out as the tight peaks of her nipples made contact with his bare chest. She rubbed herself against him, back and forth, pleasure spiking through her with each touch.
His kiss grew hungrier, rougher, tongue plunging deep inside her mouth. He lifted her, kicking her dress out of the way as he stepped forward until her back pressed against the rough cool wood of the shed. Still supporting her, Theo shoved her panties down with one hand before working his fly loose. Then he leaned into her again, thrusting his hips forward, rubbing the tip of his cock back and forth across her clit, just as she’d rubbed her breasts against his chest.
The feel of him, hot and hard against her, made Bonnie achy with need. Heat radiated between her legs, and her knees wobbled. “You won’t fall,” he promised, gripping her hips, holding her flush between his body and the wall, supporting her weight on his thighs. “I’ve got you.” He pressed his face into her neck and groaned, his breath an erotic tickle against her ear.
“Christ, Bonnie. I need to be inside you so bloody bad.” He nipped her earlobe, a sweet, sharp sting making desire shoot down her spine. “But I didn’t bring anything with me.”
She glanced up at him. “You didn’t come prepared?” she managed to tease, though she wanted to sob in frustration. She needed him inside her too.
“I wasn’t expecting this.”
She wasn’t expecting this either, but now that they were here, in this moment, she knew what she was going to do. She squirmed free of his grip, gingerly setting her feet on the floor. Using his clothing as leverage, she worked his pants and boxers down his legs, sliding down the wall until her knees hit the floor.
“Bonnie,” he ground out, his voice like sandpaper. Rough and raw.
The sound sent off tremors inside her. She reached out with her forefinger, as he had done to her, and traced a line down his body, along the muscled V of his pelvis, up to his belly button and around, following the trail of dark hair dipping lower, until she reached the base of his thick erection.
She wet her lips, thinking of that day in the bridal shop, mouth curving at the memory of those popsicles. Reminding herself to go slow, she let her tongue dart out and taste him. His body jerked, and she pulled back warily.
“Sorry,” he groaned. “It’s just, Christ, what you do to me.”
“I haven’t even gotten started.” She laughed, looking up at him.
The lamp he’d hung on a rafter lit Theo from behind, casting his face in shadows. She caught the curve of his cheek as he grinned and sensed more than saw those dimples. Dropping her gaze, she gripped his waist, thumbs pressing into the muscles stretched along his hip bones. She bent her head and placed her mouth on him again. This time, he held still for her, the sound of his ragged breaths sawing the air blending with the howling wind outside.
She licked him, the tip of her tongue circling the head of his cock before exploring his length. Teasing and tasting, she started with the lessons from her friends, but with each stroke she learned something new on her own—his groans of pleasure, the way his hands fisted in her hair—teaching her what he liked.
Ready for the next step, she opened her mouth and took him inside, sucking him slowly. In and out, little by little, she retreated and advanced, working her way down his shaft. His groans became guttural, his fingers digging into her shoulders.
The awareness of what she was doing to him, of how she could make him feel, filled Bonnie with a desperate need. Forgetting her fears, she sucked him harder, pulled him deeper into her mouth, wanting him deep, deeper, as deep as he could go. His hips jerked, but her hands held him tight, and she maintained control, dictating their pace.
“I can’t wait, oh sweet bloody hell,” Theo moaned. “Please, Bonnie, I can’t hold on any longer.” His hips surged forward, and she was ready. Not wanting to press her luck, she pulled back, releasing him from her mouth. She wrapped both hands around him, pumping him with hard fast strokes that took him right over the edge. He cried out, his body shuddering.
Theo collapsed, crumpling to his knees and pulling her close, the sharp rasp of his breath warm on her neck. “Thank you,” he whispered.
She laughed.
“Again, with the laughing.” He pulled back to study her, gaze narrowing in the dim light. “What’s so bloody funny?”
“Your manners.” She giggled.
His eyed widened. “What’s wrong with my manners?”
“It’s just”—she paused, holding back another giggle—“you always say ‘thank you’ after, well, you know.”
“Would you rather I say something like, ‘okay, babe, that was great, now please go make me a sammich’?”
She snorted with laughter.
“What did I say this time?”
He was so adorable, it was ridiculous, especially because he didn’t even realize it. “Please,” she answered him. “You said, ‘please make me a sammich.’” She giggled again. “And was that your attempt at an American accent?”
“Maybe.” He reached for her. “And yes, I have manners. Now,” he began, hands stroking down her back, “may I please—”
“Touch my bum?” she asked. “You may.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask.” Theo pressed her down to the floor, and she lay back, cushioned by the crumpled pile of their discarded clothes.
Her desire, banked while teasing him, roared back to life as he crawled on all fours, hovering over her.
“I was going to ask,” he continued, crouching low, his breath tickling her belly, “may I please—”
“Yes,” Bonnie said, “definitely, yes.” And soon, she was the one thanking him.